


Lie Down With Cats

by misura



Category: Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman
Genre: Apologies, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 15:46:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2030781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I thought that if anyone in our company was a traitor, it would be more likely to be you than Hunter."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lie Down With Cats

"I thought ... " Door bit her lip.

The Marquis looked thoughtful for the briefest of moments, then shrugged and said, "Quite."

Richard didn't know if he was expected to play any part in this conversation. Nobody appeared to be looking at him as if he was, though. He hoped that was a good sign.

"I thought that if anyone in our company was a traitor, it would be more likely to be you than Hunter."

The Marquis's expression was faintly bored. "Not a speck of suspicion on Richard. Naturally."

"Naturally," Door said, and even though nobody was staring at him, Richard still felt he might make a contribution here.

"Why? Because I'm an idiot?"

"Obviously," the Marquis said. "Treason requires a certain amount of intelligence, after all. An inkling of good sense. A keen survival instinct, or something close enough to it to be mistaken for one."

Richard thought back on when he'd first met Door. On how callous he'd thought Jessica had acted and spoken, not wanting to be inconvenienced helping a complete stranger.

"Thank you," he said.

The Marquis wrinkled his nose at him. "Mere flattery with a drop of truth in it. A small favor, at best."

"None, I would say," Door said, and there was a hint of steel in her voice.

The Marquis shrugged, again. "For not betraying you, then? For faithful services rendered?"

"That's a bit rich, don't you think?" Richard asked. Both Door and the Marquis turned to him. He remembered how he'd always felt uncomfortable being the centre of attention.

"As I was saying," said the Marquis. "Entirely above suspicion. Naturally."

"Still," Door said, and it dawned on Richard a bit belatedly that what she was getting at here was an apology. An indirect one, true - one that did not involve any additional favors owed, but still an apology.

The Marquis coughed delicately. "As I was also saying, when it comes to treason, only an idiot should be above suspicion. I should like to believe you have a somewhat firmer grasp on reality than to misjudge my person to such an extreme degree."

"I did it, too," Richard said. He'd doubted, at least. Wondered.

"Did what?" the Marquis inquired.

"Suspect you," said Richard and then, because he wasn't Door, "Sorry."

The Marquis looked slightly pained. "Do do it again. You might be right next time - for all the good that will do you. Still, better to die knowing you were right than simply surprised, isn't it?"

"Better not to die at all, I'd say."

"You would, yes." The Marquis sighed.

"And I was wrong," Richard went on.

"Generally speaking, most assuredly. You should get used to the experience."

"You're not the type who betrays people," Richard said.

Door must have realized it, too, he thought. She'd never have said it out loud, though.

"Oh, now you're just being offensive." The Marquis studied his nails. "I'm exactly the type of person who betrays people. By way of proof, might I offer the observation that I have, in fact, betrayed quite a number of people? I could give you their names, if you wish, but seeing as how they're all dead, I fear that particular information would do you little good."

"You never would have betrayed Door," Richard said, because he was sure of that much, at least. "Or me."

The Marquis looked as if someone in muddy boots had stepped on his toes which had been covered in freshly cleaned shoes.

"It would hardly have done your reputation any good if word had gotten out that you had double-crossed someone you owed a favor to," said Door.

"Ah." The Marquis smiled thinly. "My unblemished reputation."

Neither of them seemed to be in any hurry to mention that while Door and her family had been owed a favor, Richard most definitely had not been.

"Well, it is true that there are certain difficulties involved in collecting favors from the dead," said the Marquis. "The thing is not utterly impossible, naturally - still, one does prefer the easier way. On this note, I hope we may all part in happy agreement. People to see, places to do."

"We're your friends," Richard said. "You don't betray your friends."

"If I were to betray you, I shouldn't hold it against you were you to consider it less than the act of a friend," the Marquis said. "A certain amount of hurt feelings in such cases seems natural, alas. I am not speaking from any personal experience, naturally, but one can imagine."

"Richard," Door said, softly.

She didn't remind Richard the least bit of Jessica. Door and Jessica were very different persons.

He had cared for them both, or thought he did, though; they would always have that much in common. That, and the way both Jessica and Door had spent most their lives living in worlds quite different from Richard's own.

With Jessica, the differences might have been less clear, less obvious from the outside, but Richard had been there. He knew how much like a stranger he had felt, a lot of the time.

In a way, he supposed that it should perhaps surprise him how it bothered far less him when it was Door and Door's world that seemed so alien to him.

"I'm just saying that you should feel free to come by for a cup of tea or something," Richard said. "When you've got the time. Don't be a stranger."

The Marquis grimaced. "And I am to provide the biscuits, I assume?"

"Do," Door said. "Fair is fair, after all."

"Oh, very well," said the Marquis. "I'll think about it."


End file.
